


The Call

by whopackedthese



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Autism, Gen, Sensory Overload, asd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:03:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whopackedthese/pseuds/whopackedthese
Summary: Mycroft had told Greg that he was only ever to call him with emergent messages. Greg knew that, to Mycroft, there was nothing more emergent than Sherlock's need to be soothed.





	

'Mycroft, I need a word with you,' Greg spoke immediately as the phone stopped ringing, before the man on the other end was even given the opportunity to offer the polite 'Hello' greeting most people offered when answering the telephone. 

' _You_ need a word with _me_?' Mycroft responded sarcastically. 'No, Inspector, that's not usually the manner in which it works.' 

Greg took a measured breath, reminding himself that he probably shouldn't be plotting to punch the man. 'That's what I said. It's about your brother.' 

Mycroft's sigh into the phone was loud. 'Of course it is. Now what?'

Greg ignored the obvious boredom in Mycroft's voice and cut to the chase. 'He's in custody.'

'Why, what did he do this time? Six lines of cocaine, nine shots of heroin...' 

Greg tutted loudly. 'I'm not joking, Mycroft. He attacked a police officer.'

Mycroft's sigh this time sounded alarmingly like a laugh. 'Oh, was it the delightful Anderson?'

'No.' Greg stormed in loudly, ' _Me_.'

And suddenly, Mycroft's voice sobered. 'Oh, I see. ...what happened?' 

'Honestly, I don't know,' Greg admitted. He rubbed his left hand across his neck. 

'Well you were there, you must know.' Mycroft replied, sounding agitated. 

'I really have no idea - one moment we were talking, the next my nose is bleeding and two officers are pinning him to the floor. I haven't pressed charges, before you jump down my throat, but he's being held until he calms down. Which is why I need you - or, more specifically, he needs you.' Greg pleaded gently. 

'Needs me?' Mycroft said slowly, 'In what capacity?'

Greg sighed angrily into the phone. 'Physically, Mycroft, he _physically_ needs you. I can't calm him down. Hold him, do that wrap thing you do, calm him down because none of us can get through to him.' He took a breath and spoke again, calmer this time. 'Please - come here and help me to help your brother. I've been given a short window to cool him off and ship him out, or they're going for psych.' 

Mycroft's tut was loud and clearly based in anger when it came rustling into the phone. 'He's not mentally ill, Inspector Lestrade, he's autistic. No amount of psychiatric evaluations are going to yield the results you're all hoping for.' 

Greg nodded, 'All of this I know, Mycroft - you know I do. Just...will you come?' 

'Of course I'll come.' Greg stared at the phone when it cut, leaving him angry and bothered. He thrust it back into the holder leaned against the desk. 

 

But all semblances of annoyance aimed at Mycroft dissolved into practically nothing when Greg was able to stand back and watch him work on Sherlock. He sat on the floor, with the younger Holmes between his spread legs, and wrapped his arms tightly around the agitated and exasperated man's chest, rocking slowly and evenly from side to side, with his mouth pressed close to Sherlock's ear whispering words that were lost on everyone else, meant only for the brain of his baby brother. It was not a quick fix; Greg had seen this practice go on for well over an hour before Sherlock looked and felt calmer, able to make sense and cope with the noises, sights and smells around him without it being too much to bear. He stood at the glass, with Donovan at his side and a pain in his head from the blow to his nose, and watched with amazement at the truth behind the words 'you think you know a guy'. Mycroft Holmes did not appear gentle, loving, sentimental or sweet - but in this context, in this room, with this emotionally overstretched young man, he was all of that and more.


End file.
